Nur

A tale from the land of Ne'at, a world filled with ancient myths and magic.

Nur was born of the North, where was naught but ice. Where sun would not oft go for fear of the dark

gods Dalk and Seleth, blood drinkers, flesh eaters, light takers. There born was Nur, to the gray she

wolf who warmed his cold body with the fur of her dead pups. Long did he dwell among the wolf kind,

far from the minds of men, but not far enough from the minds of Seleth and Dalk. So was bent there

will on the young Nur whose strength was already great by the reckoning of men, the mountains shed

their icy skin at the word of those dark gods so was slain the she wolf and her kin. Then was Nur taken

up to the wooden beams, and hearth lit homes of the men of the North. They who chanted the chants of

Dalk and Seleth to seek their power for the price of blood. With teeth sharp, arms bent with the weight

of steel, or hands clawed with the bones of elk, they mounted the waves, their shamans at the prows of

their proud ships mumbling, churning, and chanting over their blood vessels to the South they went

with Nur wolf born. They crashed upon the southern shores burning the sea as they came ravishing the

coast. Nur a lone wolf among the plains gazed upon the fields of golden grain, the vineyards of grape,

and spied a great house of oak and leaves where sat a southern maiden warm as the sun melting the

northern ice. His arms no longer bent, his claws left behind as he sang the songs of the North to the

Southern maiden, the cold icy songs to frame the heat of the South and so Nur melted to the South. But

the howls of the horns drew Nur away, onto the sea with the chanting, churning, and mumbling of the

shamans back to the cries of Seleth and Dalk for blood. There Nur heard the tales of the north men, the

battles of the South, the ancient hatred that Dalk and Seleth held for the Sun. Banished to the darkness

of the North were they, for they had drank the forbidden wine, and eaten of sacred flesh. Cast out to the

shadows, vagabonds of the light so they seek eternally to tear the sun from it’s lofty climb, bring it low

as coal in the great waves of the sea. Blood they need, flesh they eat to make their beastly servants who

only will come when the time is ripe for the invasion of the south. Nur too was as a sign to them, the

howl before the pack of nightmare. Nur shrank though to think that he would be the beginning of the

end for the land of the Southern maiden, the place he had left his heart behind. So fled he alone upon

the silent watches of the night out upon the sea to the South, no sharp teeth or arms bent with steel but

bent upon the oar to ride the mighty waves and quell the monsters of the deep until he arrived, Seleth

and Dalk unaware of his departure till their great blinding enemy came laughing at their loss. To his

love Nur went only to find her with child of another, long had she waited upon the shores of the south

though fear had gripped her heart and dread filled her mind so she thought Nur was dead, buried in the

sea or eaten by the wolves, she did not know that he lived. But as she grieved his death another man of

the south, her heart stole to save her life. The ice returned to cover his heart and shield it from the rays

of the bright south, though shielded it beat for the Southern Maiden where his heart had once longed to

be. So to he went to guard the shores at the coming of Dalk and Seleth whose thunderous drums of war

boomed in an ever darkening sky. The men of the North had come, war upon their lips fangs in their

hands to bite and break the South, so to had Seleth and Dalk come in their true forms upon the prow of

the foremost ship to burn the land, bringing the darkness they had been banished to. Upon the shore

Nur awaited them, Ice in his heart, blood on his mind, Nur wolf kin, born of blood and too blood was

he to return. There he slew the North men as a wolf against a wall did he fight, at each foe he slew he

screamed his fury “South Born! South Born! The Wolf has come!” The Southerners were blind to his

cries as they watched the beach disappear underneath dark blood, dark bodies, dark waves, but the

Southern Maiden saw what was meant by the cry of Nur. For his love still was with her, for her he

stood against the tide of the North, for her would he brave the storm of Dalk and Seleth. Nur slew till

his axe broke against a North man’s skull, pushing him away from himself he howled, shedding the

skin of man and becoming a feral wolf, snarling, biting, tearing the throats of the North till they had

returned to the dust or to the ice from whence they came. Last of all stood Seleth and Dalk, blood

stained lips, the skins of men did they wear upon their long bodies as armor. Dalk wielded the storm of

the sky in his hands, a spear greater in length than the masts of the North Men’s boats while Seleth

wielded the rage of the deep, a doubled hook serrated with the teeth of the monsters of the deep.

Together the dark gods stormed and raged against Nur. Soon rivers flowed from Nur’s body as he kept

them at bay, on the coast, on the brink, staying destruction of the land his love did dwell till biting,

gnashing, cla-...to much, his frozen heart shattered as Dalk thrusted him through. Nur fell, a feral wolf

laid low by the storms of the Northern sky and sea to rise no more. Their the dark gods laughed, for

Nur had fallen, the only mortal to stand against the tide, to fight the raging winds, Nur wolf born the

last true North man.

Reviews

[JayG]

Your first paragraph is 981 words long. That's about four standard manuscript pages without a paragraph break. If the reader looks up and loses their place they're not going to find it again without more work that a reader is willing to put in. Aside from indicating a change in subject, paragraphs are invaluable as a means of helping the reader know where they are on the page.

But more than that, have your computer's Narrator program read this to you, to hear it as the reader does. Do that and you'll see the primary problem: This piece is meant to be performed, not read. Without the emotion you would place into that performance the reader has only punctuation, which means the reader will hear your words in a monotone, where for you, the narrator's voice—your voice, is filled with the proper emotion. Remember, when verbally telling a story, how you perform it matters as much, perhaps more, than what you say. And that entire performance, vocal as well as visual, vanishes on the page. Think of the places where you pause for a moment, to allow the listener to absorb and understand the significance of the words. For the reader that pause isn't there (especially because of the missing paragraph marks).

And as if that's not enough (sorry 😂), one of the most critical skills a writer needs is the ability to edit from the seat of a reader, who has no access to either context you don't provide, or your intent as to meaning.

You say, for example, "There born was Nur, to the gray she wolf (should probably be she-wolf) who warmed his cold body with the fur of her dead pups." But if she birthed him, that makes him one of her pups. And a mental picture of a she-wolf, abdomen bulging to the size of a pregnant human, legs not reaching the ground, seems a bit over the top—as does the child nestled among the rotting carcasses of dead wolf pups for a year or more.

That's certainly not the image you held, or intended the reader to get, but it is what the words tell the reader, who has no access to either your intent or the context you have that makes it meaningful.

My goal with this isn't to upset or discourage you. I did a critique because no one tells us that the writing skills we're given in school are nonfiction, which won't work for fiction. And that's a problem, because, but not knowing what, or why more is necessary, lots of writers turn to recording themself telling the story aloud to ad the emotion that the words, alone, don't seem to provide. But because such an approach works for the author, whose understanding is guided by intent, the reader's problem won't be noticed. And since we'll never address the problem we don't see as being one, I thought you would want to be made aware of it.

The solution? Simple: add the tricks of the fiction-writing profession to your current writing skill-set and there you are.

Obviously, though, simple and easy aren't interchangeable words, so there is the usual study and practice that goes with learning any new skill. But since writing is something you want to do, it won't be hard labor. In fact, it's more like going backstage at the theater. And once mastered, the act of writing becomes a lot more fun. So what's not to like?

There are lots of books in the fiction-writing section of the library, by pros in all parts of the publishing industry: teaching, publishing, and writing. So time spent with such a book in your hands is time wisely invested. Personally? I’d suggest Dwight Swain’s, Techniques of the Selling Writer, which recently came out of copyright protection. It's the best I've found, to date, at imparting and clarifying the "nuts-and-bolts" issues of creating a scene that will sing to the reader. The address of an archive site where you can read or download it free is just below. Copy/paste the address into the URL window of any Internet page and hit Return to get there.

https://archive.org/details/TechniquesOfTheSellingWriterCUsersvenkatmGoogleDrive4FilmMakingBsc_ChennaiFilmSchoolPractice_Others

You might also check some of the writing articles in my WordPress blog. They're meant to show the differences in approach between fiction and nonfiction writing, to give you a feel for where you need to focus.

So...I wish such news was easier to break, given how hard you've worked, and the amount of emotional involvement that goes into something like this. There might be, but I've not found it, and as I said, I thought you might want to know.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/

[Colleen Evee]

Thank you Jay for your review! Honestly I posted on Writer's Cafe to get criticism so that I could see better what I am missing in my writing. I downloaded the book you suggested and am looking forward to read it and learn more on how to write.